Nash (Daddies of Justice #3)

Chapter 18

Nash

T he vault door slammed open with a deafening clang, the sound of the shotgun blasts still ringing in their ears.

Nash squinted through the gloom, his heart pounding. They had to find Rosie, fast. He sensed Blake and Jax flanking him as they ventured inside.

Empty shelves and safes lined the walls. No sign of life. Nash gritted his teeth. "Fuck. She's not here."

"They must've taken her somewhere else in the casino," Jax said tensely, shining his flashlight around.

Blake nodded grimly. "I have three guys posing as casino staff right now, sniffing around for intel.”

“You do?” asked Nash. He hated feeling out of the picture. He’d been so tired after watching over Rosie that Jax and Blake had planned certain parts of the operation without him. Another way he felt like he’d let everyone down.

“Yeah,” said Blake. “Preparing for us to raid the place tomorrow. I’d better let ‘em know we’re here a day early." He tapped rapidly on his phone. "If they've seen Rosie, they'll let us know where."

Nash ran a hand through his hair, mind racing. He pulled out his phone. "I'm texting my old partner from the DEA. Guy's solid as a rock. I trust him. Sending the casino location and '911'. Never hurts to have police backup." His fingers flew over the screen.

As he hit send, a bead of sweat trickled down his temple. The guilt and panic threatened to choke him. Christ, Rosie . . . His sweet baby girl was in the claws of that sick bastard Bobby Fire. All because Nash had failed to keep her safe.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. He was going to put out the Fire, once and for all.

"So, what's the play?" Jax asked impatiently.

Blake's ice-blue eyes flashed in the dark. "As soon as my boys report back, we move. Hit the casino floor, find out where they're keeping her. Then we get our girl back and make that motherfucker pay."

Nash met his brothers' fierce gazes, a cold determination settling over him. "I’m not gonna wait. We need to start looking right now.”

Jax and Nash exchanged glances, but they nodded. “We’re right behind you, bro,” said Jax.

They started walking toward a door that most likely led to the main part of the casino, but Nash stopped in his tracks. He glanced down at his ridiculous getup and cursed under his breath. "We stick out like sore thumbs in these damn costumes. Not exactly inconspicuous."

Blake's lip curled. "No shit. You look like a deranged mall Santa." He sniffed and wrinkled his nose. "And we all stink like shit from crawling through those sewers."

Jax adjusted his glasses, his garish Christmas tree sweater stretched tight across his broad shoulders. "Doesn't matter. We stay together and watch each other's backs. Move fast and quiet, avoid drawing attention."

Nash nodded grimly. They were going in blind, but they had no choice. Every second Rosie spent in Bobby Fire's clutches was a second too long.

They moved out, hugging the shadows of the labyrinthine casino halls. The clamor of slot machines and drunken laughter echoed from the main floor. They crept through the darkened service corridors.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, they froze. Nash held up a fist, signaling his brothers. As the unsuspecting guard rounded the corner, Nash lunged. In a blur of red velvet, he took the man down with a swift chokehold, dragging him out of sight.

Jax reached out to stop a door from slamming shut. Blake tossed a stack of chips, sending them clattering across the marble floor. The distractions bought them precious seconds to slip past unnoticed.

Nash led his brothers through a maze of corridors, looking for anything that might lead them to Rosie. They came to an abrupt halt outside a gray door marked "Security." The door was cracked open a touch, and they could just make out a single guard sitting watch, his eyes glued to the many screens on the walls around him.

Blake cracked his knuckles. "I've got this."

In a flash, he had the guard in a sleeper hold, muscles bulging beneath his sweater. The man went limp, and Blake lowered him silently to the floor.

"He won't be bothering us now," said Nash darkly.

The glow of a dozen CCTV screens cast an eerie blue light. Nash's eyes darted from screen to screen, searching for any sign of Rosie.

Jax pushed his glasses up his nose and got to work on the computer keyboard, fingers flying over the keys as he brought up image after image on the main big screen.

"There," Jax hissed, pointing.

Nash's heart seized. On the grainy footage, he saw Rosie, still in her elf costume, tied to a chair in a small room. Bobby Fire's bloated figure loomed over her, his blackened teeth bared in a sneer. Another man in an expensive but tasteless looking suit, face obscured, stood at his side.

"Fucking bastard," Nash growled, fingers twitching with the urge to wrap around Bobby's throat.

Jax squinted at the screen. "Looks like they're in some kind of private lounge.”

Blake looked down at his phone. “Room 1408, according to my guy."

Nash's mind raced, adrenaline surging through his veins. They needed a plan, and fast. His gaze fell on the main casino floor, packed with holiday revelers hoping to get lucky for Christmas.

"We create a diversion," he said, jaw clenched. "Draw security's attention, then slip through the chaos."

Jax raised an eyebrow. "What kind of diversion?"

Nash's lips curled into a grim smile. "The kind that'll have every guard in this place running."

He outlined the plan in clipped tones, his brothers nodding along. It was risky, borderline insane. But for Rosie, he'd do anything.

As they moved to leave, Nash paused, looking back at the screen. Rosie's face was bruised, her hair disheveled, but her eyes still sparked with that fierce defiance he loved.

"Hold on, baby girl," he murmured. "Daddy's coming."

With a last glance at his brothers, Nash steeled himself for the fight ahead. They had the element of surprise and a whole lot of righteous fury on their side.

They made it to the door of the main casino and Nash surveyed the scene before him, taking in the flashing lights, the rowdy patrons, and the scantily clad waitresses weaving through the crowd. This was their moment.

With a deep breath, Nash tightened his grip on the edge of his Santa jacket. His gaze darted around, seeking the perfect distraction. Then, like a bolt of lightning, inspiration struck. His eyes landed on a massive Christmas tree adorned with twinkling lights and baubles, standing proudly near the entrance. With a devious grin spreading across his face, Nash turned to Blake and Jax.

"Let's give 'em a show," Nash said, voice low but charged with determination.

Blake cracked his knuckles, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Ready when you are, Santa."

"Watch and learn," he said before stepping out into the open like a gladiator entering the arena. The Santa suit hugged his lean frame as he moved with purpose toward the towering tree.

"Attention, ladies and gentlemen!" Nash's voice boomed through the casino, cutting through the ambient noise like a lighthouse beam through thick fog. "Can I have your attention, please?"

The crowd fell silent, an uneasy murmur spreading like wildfire. A hush fell over the room as all eyes turned to the figure of Nash standing tall and proud near the Christmas tree. His piercing green gaze swept over the sea of faces in front of him.

"Folks," he began, his voice ringing out with authority, "it seems there's a naughty little elf who's misbehaved on the naughty list this year."

Gasps and hushed whispers rippled through the crowd as curious eyes narrowed in intrigue. The suspense reached a crescendo, each heartbeat pounding like a war drum in the stillness that ensued.

"So let's play a game," Nash continued, his smirk growing wider. "I want each and every one of you to ask yourself: am I naughty or nice? And if you're feeling especially festive, why not share your answer with the person next to you?"

A wave of confusion washed over the crowd as they exchanged glances and whispered among themselves. Nash could see the security guards shifting nervously at the periphery, their eyes darting between him and Bobby Fire's hidden lair.

"Let's make this game more interesting," Nash smirked, his eyes locked on the door to Room 1408. "And for those of you who can prove just how naughty you are, well, I have something special for you."

With that, Nash reached up and seized the Christmas tree by its largest branch, causing it to sway dangerously from side to side. The crowd gasped in unison as he gave another mighty tug, sending the entire tree toppling forward like a domino.

The Christmas lights flickered and fizzled out. Jax, meanwhile, had clearly found a way to hack into the casino’s main lighting system, and all of the slot machines went off at once, casting the room into darkness punctuated only by a few strobe lights that flickered erratically.

The chaos that ensued was palpable. Screams and shouts filled the air as people scrambled to make sense of the sudden turn of events.

As the lights flickered back on, Nash could see the security guards charging toward him, their faces twisted into masks of fury. But he didn't falter, his gaze unwavering as he met their advance with a deadly resolve.

With the distraction set in motion, Nash turned to his brothers, who stood ready with weapons at hand. He gestured towards the door leading to Room 1408, and without another word, they sprinted forward.

The battle was fierce—punches and kicks flew through the air like lightning bolts, each strike landing with a sickening thud.

Nash burst into the private room, his eyes immediately locking onto Bobby Fire's surprised face. Damn, he looked like shit. The time in prison hadn't been kind to him. A huge, scraggly beard and tattoos snaking up his face and across his forehead. Bloodshot eyes.

“Nash!” called out Rosie. “Help me!”

Nash cast a quick look at his girl, long enough to know that she hadn’t been badly hurt. She just looked scared, but happy to see him at the same time.

"Well, well, if it ain't the Marks brothers," Bobby spat, his blackened teeth bared. "Come to join the party?"

"The only party you're going to is gonna be the prison Christmas party, you sick fuck," Nash snarled, advancing with measured steps.

Bobby lunged, meaty fists swinging. Nash dodged, his own fists connecting with the man's gut, the satisfying whoosh of expelled air filling his ears. They traded blows, Nash's lithe form weaving around Bobby's lumbering attacks.

In his peripheral vision, Nash saw Jax blocking the door, holding everyone back with a gun while Blake squared off against the other man, the greasy-looking businessman who he could see now had only one hand. This must be him: Hands.

Blake and Hands were locked in a brutal dance. But Nash's focus snapped back as Bobby's fist glanced off his jaw, and pain exploded through his face.

"That all you got?" Nash taunted, spitting blood. His mind raced, calculating his next move. He knew he was about to play dirty, but this guy deserved it. Nash drove his knee into Bobby's groin, the man's howl music to his ears.

Bobby stumbled back, his face purpling with rage. "You're dead, Marks. You and your little whore. You stole her once. Now I’m stealing everything you got." He began to laugh. “You think I did all this for that runt Rosie Love? Ha! She’s a nobody. The real prize, Nash, is being taken from you at this very moment. Back in that little ‘Den’ of yours. All the pretty girls you keep there. All your nearest and dearest. It's payback time, Marks.”

The words ignited something primal in Nash, a fury that burned white-hot. "You know nothing about that place!"

Bobby started to laugh. "Want a bet? I've been following that little sweetheart of yours for weeks now. Even found my way into her apartment. You wouldn't believe the stuff she writes in her diaries. All kinds of stuff about Daddies and Littles. Disgusting stuff. Perverted stuff. But mostly, Nash, she writes about you. Quite besotted, don't ask me why. And she led me to you and your den of iniquity like a duck to water." He grinned widely. "Nice little secret hideout you've got there. But buying an old Freemasons place was a bad move, buddy. See, I found their old plans. Turns out there was a secret passageway even you didn't know about."

Nash roared and launched himself at Bobby, tackling him to the ground. They grappled, rolling across the plush carpet, Nash's vision narrowed to the man beneath him.

Dimly, he registered the sounds of Blake's fight, the grunts and thuds of flesh on flesh. But all that mattered was the monster in his grasp, the one who'd hurt his Rosie, who'd haunted his nightmares.

Nash's fists flew, pummeling Bobby's face, the man's blood smearing his knuckles. He didn't stop, couldn't stop, even as Bobby's struggles weakened, his eyes rolling back.

"Nash!" Blake's shout cut through the haze. "He's done, brother. It's over."

Chest heaving, Nash stared down at Bobby's unconscious form, the adrenaline slowly ebbing. He looked up, meeting Blake's gaze, seeing his own satisfaction mirrored there.

The one-handed man lay in a crumpled heap, Blake standing tall above him. "Hands won't be a problem anymore," he said grimly.

Nash nodded, his attention already turning to the figure huddled in the corner. Rosie. His heart clenched as he approached, taking in her tear-streaked face, and the way she trembled.

"Rosie, baby," he murmured, reaching for her. "It's okay. You're safe now."

She looked up at him, those big green eyes brimming with emotion. "Nash," she whispered, her voice breaking. "You came for me."

He gathered her into his arms, holding her close, breathing in her scent beneath the fear and grime. "Always, baby girl. I'll always come for you."

As he held her, Nash felt a sense of rightness settle over him, a certainty that this was where he belonged. With Rosie at his side. Wherever that may be.

Jax kept his gun trained on the door, his senses on high alert. Shouts and commotion echoed from beyond, the casino in chaos. But no one came bursting through. Not yet, anyway.

“What now?” asked Blake.

“Now we get back to The Den,” he said, panting. “Bobby said this was just a diversion. He’s got men at The Den as we speak.”

“Shit,” said Blake, the blood running out of his face. “Savannah. Mia.”

The job wasn't finished yet. They still had to get out of here in one piece, then rescue the others back at The Den.

"Guys," Jax called out, his voice tense. "We need to move. Now."

Nash looked up, his eyes meeting Jax's. A silent understanding passed between them. They couldn't afford to linger, no matter how much Nash might want to.

Gently, Nash disentangled himself from Rosie's embrace. "Can you stand up, princess?" His voice was soft, but there was an undercurrent of urgency.

Rosie nodded, allowing him to help her to her feet. She swayed slightly, clutching his arm for support. "I think so," she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying.

Nash's jaw tightened as he took in the bruises marring her delicate skin, the torn fabric of her elf costume. Fury surged through him anew, but he tamped it down. Later. He'd deal with that later. Right now, all that mattered was getting Rosie to safety.

He reached up, gently tugging off her lopsided elf hat. His fingers combed through her tangled hair, the gesture tender despite the situation. "I've got you, baby," he murmured, his green eyes intense. "I won't let anything happen to you. Never again."

Rosie met his gaze, a shaky smile curving her lips. "I know," she breathed. "My guardian angel."

Something fierce and protective swelled in Nash's chest. He cupped her face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "Forever, Rosie. I promise."

Another crash sounded from outside, making them both start.

"We really need to get moving," said Blake.

Nash nodded, wrapping an arm around Rosie's waist. "Stay close to me," he instructed. "We're getting out of here."

Together, the brothers moved toward the door, Rosie safe in their midst. Whatever came next, they'd face it as a team.

As a family.

Rosie leaned into Nash's steady warmth, her legs still shaky. "Thank you, Daddy."

Nash's arm tightened around her waist, his lips brushing her temple. "Thank you , sweetheart. You make my life worth living."

She tilted her head, meeting his intense gaze. "Guess that makes me your guardian angel, too," Rosie said softly.

Something flickered in Nash's eyes, a mix of emotions too complex to name. He traced her cheek with a gentle finger, his touch igniting sparks beneath her skin.

"Rosie . . ." He swallowed hard, his voice rough. "You've been saving me since the moment we met. I just didn't know it until now."

Nash kept Rosie close as they burst out of the room, his senses on high alert. The hallway was chaos, panicked patrons fleeing in all directions. Gunshots echoed from the casino floor, punctuated by screams.

"This way," Blake barked, leading them through the throng.

Jax and their undercover men flanked them, weapons drawn, providing cover. They moved as a unit, swift and focused, cutting a path through the mayhem.

Rosie clung to Nash's hand like a lifeline. He glanced back at her, his eyes fierce with determination. "Stay with me, angel. I've got you."

She nodded, her throat too tight for words.

They rounded a corner and skidded to a halt. A group of armed men blocked their path, Bobby Fire's goons.

"Well, well, well." The leader sneered, his gun trained on Nash. "Looks like the Paladin brothers are trying to fly the coop."

Nash stepped forward, shielding Rosie with his body. "Out of the way," he growled. "This ends now."

The goon laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "Oh, it's gonna end all right. With you in a body bag." He cocked his gun, pointing it right at Nash's heart.

In a split second, Nash did the calculations. He didn't have time to draw his gun. His men had their guns trained on the others in the gang. This might have to be the moment. The moment he would take a bullet for his girl. And it would all be worth it.

Out of nowhere, Nash felt a pain in his arm. He thought he'd been shot there, but he realized he was being shoved. Rosie had lunged forward, screaming and pushing Nash aside just as the gun went off.

"Rosie!" Nash's anguished cry tore through the haze.

Rosie had moved him aside, taken the bullet for him. She lay on the floor, bleeding, her face white as a sheet.

More gunshots, shouts, and the thud of bodies hitting the floor. It all blurred together, distant and muffled.

"Hold on, Rosie." His voice cracked, raw with emotion. "Don't you dare leave me."

She managed a weak smile, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. "Couldn't let them hurt my guardian angel."

Tears slipped down his face, mingling with the blood on her fingers.

The wail of sirens cut through the din. Red and blue lights flashed through the windows.

"The cops are here!" someone shouted. "We need to go."

Nash scooped Rosie up, holding her tight against his chest. He carried her out of the casino, past the swarm of police officers pouring in, past the flashing cameras and gawking onlookers.

He carried her all the way to safety. And as the chaos faded away, Nash knew one thing with absolute certainty. Rosie Love was his angel, his soulmate, his forever.

And nothing, not even the darkest of shadows, could tear them apart.